


Do as You're Told

by EarthsickWithoutYou



Category: Doctor Who, Whouffaldi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12110715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthsickWithoutYou/pseuds/EarthsickWithoutYou
Summary: “Maybe we only like being bossed around if it’s by each other,” Clara suggested.





	Do as You're Told

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place near the end of the episode "Listen."

“I am against the hugging!” The Doctor objected, but Clara clung onto him despite his hilarious attempts to evade her arms. 

She laughed as they broke apart, then asked him, “But why? Why don’t you like me hugging you anymore? We used to do it all the time.”

The Doctor froze. “Exactly,” he acknowledged simply. Clara loved the look of him standing there, all in black, tall and mysterious. “We used to do it all the time, when I was young and handsome-looking, I mean if you could forgive the chin, and when I was basically your—” He stopped there, frustrated and stubborn.

“Basically my boyfriend?” Clara put in. “Is that why you said you’re _not_ my boyfriend, after you changed?”

“You mean after you said you didn’t know who I was anymore, after you couldn’t wait to get away from me? Yeah. It seemed, Clara, like the right thing to say.” She could see the heartbreak in his eyes as he recalled that conversation between them, and it made her wince. She never wanted to hurt him.

Clara tried to think of how she could explain this to him. It was so complicated. “Maybe I just needed time to adjust and get my breath back, Doctor. There was no need to go making broad proclamations about our relationship at that moment. And no need now to lie about how you feel when…” She reached out and touched his face, and he stared back at her, desperately bewildered. “…When I touch you. Tell me the truth, do you like it when I touch you?”

“Yes,” the Doctor admitted with difficulty, no longer safe behind the walls he’d built to keep her presumed disdain of his new appearance from hurting him. 

“What if I told you that I rather like the way you look now?” Clara wondered.

“You mean, like a big grey stick insect?” He asked, giving her a pointed look.

“Oh, right, just like I’ve got a face so wide that I need three mirrors, I’m really fat, and I’m ‘not a young woman anymore’?” Clara smiled, gently accusing.

“Ah, that,” the Doctor answered sheepishly. “That was just, just…” He didn’t know what to do with himself given Clara’s boldness, her physical proximity, and the way his usually natural instinct to repress certain feelings was melting away.

“That was just you lying to try and pretend you’re not attracted to me anymore,” Clara translated smoothly. “I know, Doctor, I know all about it, because you see, I’ve been doing it too lately. I think I want to stop now.”

“Well, okay. But what about my accent? Now, I _know_ you don’t like the accent.” 

Clara laughed. “I love the accent, you idiot. Do you seriously understand nothing about basic flirtation?”

“Everyone can’t be the flirtation champion that you are, Clara,” the Doctor retorted slyly. “Do as I’m told?” He repeated her words from earlier, starting to relax now that their cards were on the table. His eyes twinkled as she blushed.

“Yeah, you liked that, didn’t you?” She touched the collar of his jacket, running her fingers down it as his eyes followed her, naked with desire. “Me, too. I don’t like being bossed around, ever, I mean it makes me furious, the loss of control. Except when it’s you.”

“So you mean,” the Doctor began softly, his voice endlessly sensual, giving Clara the really good kind of goosebumps, “That when I yelled at you to do as you were told and get back in the TARDIS, you felt…”

“Angry with you for having the nerve to order me around,” Clara explained, taking his hands and guiding them to her waist, “Terrified that you were going to get hurt, all alone with whatever was behind that door. And…unexpectedly and inappropriately…turned on.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone else who could legitimately give me an order,” the Doctor replied, his hand traveling to the small of her back. Gently but firmly, he drew her closer until they were pressed together, their breaths coming faster, the tension between them stretched so thin it was going to snap any second now.

“Maybe we only like being bossed around if it’s by each other,” Clara suggested, “Want to try it again?” He nodded. “Kiss me,” she commanded.

The Doctor leaned down and Clara reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck as he held her, finally held her as she’d wanted him to so badly. He kissed her lips, whisper-soft at first, then once they’d felt the electric tingle caused by that innocent-seeming brush of their mouths, all pretense of innocence disappeared. The Doctor’s next kiss was hungry and passionate, and Clara felt completely undone by the taste of his mouth, his tongue against hers. Her skin was tingling, she was on fire, how could this be real? She wanted this to never stop.

“Your turn,” she murmured when they came up briefly for air. He nodded. 

“Take off your dress,” the Doctor commanded huskily. Clara reached for the zipper immediately and let the garment fall to the floor. 

“What do you really think about the way I look?” Clara asked quietly, so aroused that she could just about breathe, completely under the control of his intense, powerful gaze on her.

The Doctor took her again in his arms, pressing his long fingers against her bare back and waist. Then he stroked her lips with one finger before letting his hand fall against her heart, feeling the way it pounded for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said finally, “And sexy. And I…” His voice broke, emotion and need pushing him past his usual boundaries. “And I want you. I always have.”

Her eyes glittered with happy tears, and she caressed his face. “Know what else?” Clara asked softly, “It’s my turn. Take off the rest of what I’m wearing.” He complied, but he couldn’t _just_ do as he was told; this called for improvisation, this needed careful attention to detail. The Doctor slowly unclasped her bra, then pulled her against him, kissing her lips with breathless fervor, then her neck and finally her breasts. He kneaded her soft flesh and then licked and kissed her as Clara gasped, feeling the tightening heat at her core. The Doctor went down on his knees, then reached for her black panties. He registered that they were scandalously insubstantial, and felt himself growing harder, which he hadn’t imagined possible. He slid her underwear gradually downward, taking a moment to cup her rear as Clara bit her lip, her fingers in his hair, her eyes closed. She swallowed, lost to his every movement. 

He took off his jacket and laid it over her dress on the floor, creating a slightly softer place to land. “Lie down,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. They both knew they would never have the patience to make it to a bed.

Clara complied, under his thrall, and reached up to unbutton his shirt, pushing it back from his shoulders, then drawing him down to her. Her legs encircled him as they kissed again, enjoying the delicious friction of their lower bodies moving together. “Take off your trousers,” Clara murmured, further excited by the sensation of his fingers brushing against her entrance, teasing her until she was half-mad with anticipation. 

She saw the awe in his face as he noticed how wet she was, his finger slipping inside her with ease, both of them letting out a sigh, Clara at the pleasure he was giving her and the Doctor at the feeling of her most intimate self under his touch, warm, moist, and vulnerable. When he added a second finger, Clara grabbed his shoulder, crying out almost immediately as she came even harder than she had expected. “God,” she whispered tightly, drawing his face to her so that she could kiss his mouth again. 

“I love you, Clara,” the Doctor said tenderly, “I need you to know that, before this goes any further. I love you so much. I need you.”

“I love you, too,” Clara confessed, joy and arousal all tangled up inside her, beautifully blossoming, unending and all-encompassing. 

He entered her with one long thrust and Clara gave a startled gasp, amazed at how perfect it felt to have him inside of her, needing more and everything now. The Doctor kissed her chest again, teasing her nipples as she traced his back lightly with her fingernails, then held him lower on his back, following his movements, encouraging him to keep thrusting into her. 

Clara dug her fingers into his shoulders as her second orgasm began to build, hotter and fiercer by the second, and she could tell how close to the edge he was as well. When she felt the explosion of pleasure take her over, Clara moaned, moving her hands to his waist, loving to watch him, adoring the lines of the Doctor’s body, his slim stomach and hips. She needed to see his own satisfaction reach its height. “Let go,” she said as her next command, and the Doctor cried out as he lost all self control, then fell against her, as blown away by the experience as Clara was.

“I was so jealous about that date of yours,” he admitted a few minutes later. He’d found a blanket in one of the inner storage compartments of the console room and wrapped it around them as they held each other, still dazed.

“Do you know,” Clara admitted, both to him and to herself for the very first time, “I think I went on that date to try and prove to myself that I didn’t love you, that I could move on. I mean, Danny’s a wonderful guy, but all I could think about was you, the whole time I was sitting at that table. It made me blurt out all kinds of nonsense, until I just couldn’t even sit there another second.”

“Danny?” The Doctor repeated, looking irked, “As in brave little Soldier Dan? So _that’s_ why we ended up in his past. You were thinking about him.”

“Don’t do that,” Clara entreated, laying her face against his hearts, holding him snugly around the waist. “There’s nothing to be jealous about, I promise you. There never was and there never will be.”

“Okay, then, I’ll stop,” He agreed, and kissed her forehead. That was being unusually reasonable for the Doctor, and he did it because it was her asking.

“Doctor,” She said playfully, “Just because I like you ordering me about doesn’t mean that I’ll always do as you say, you know.”

“Ah, that’s the fun part about it,” the Doctor replied, his touch going from snuggly and contented to something more heated again, his fingers tracing the line of her back, sending shivers down her spine. “By the way, that dress you had on tonight should be against the law.”

“So should those tight black pants you’re always wearing lately,” she replied cheekily, lowering her lips to his chest, very ready indeed for whatever else this night held in store for them.

“I love you,” Clara said again, because she could. 

“You’re so perfect,” he sighed against her ear, “So impossibly perfect.”

“No, I’m really not,” She insisted, blushing as he ran a hand along the length of her torso, brushing against the side of her breast.

“You’re perfect to me,” the Doctor replied simply, “You’re the one, Clara Oswald. I never thought I’d be here, at your mercy, the best place in the universe I could ever be.”

Then Clara felt compelled to repeat something she’d said the day they’d come back to Glasgow instead of London, after he’d regenerated. “Am I home now, Doctor?”

The Doctor gave her that same sweet, inviting, open-hearted grin he’d given her the last time she had asked this. “If you want to be.”


End file.
